Your Song
by Mrs-N-Uzumaki
Summary: The Harry and Hermione dance in Deathly Hallows was cute...but Dramione would've been better. Don't worry. It's not that fluffy.


**Disclaimer: **I OWN THESE CHARACTERS, BITCHES.

lol just kiddin'

I wish I did though.

* * *

**Your Song**

* * *

He didn't know what day it was. He lost count a few weeks back (has it really been that long since he escaped from the Manor?). His time had been occupied with gaining their trust so they wouldn't leave him behind, or worse, hand him over to be sent to prison. The four of them have been travelling long and, for what seemed like, endless hours, stopping to set up camp during the nights.

He had been forced to share a tent with Saint Potter because they couldn't remove him from their sight. Draco hated that he had to be a few feet from the scar-head the entire nights they camped. It wasn't like he made conversation with him, thank God, it was that Potter listened to hours of radio before actually turning it off. Draco was a light sleeper anyway, and having Potter switching radio stations for news or music didn't help his situation. Sometimes, the irritating Gryffindor would leave one radio station on to play ballads. Needless to say, Draco never even heard of them, but the songs aired on the station so often the lyrics unconsciously drowned into his mind in the midst of his drifting into slumber. After a while, though, it helped him keep the nightmares off (not that he would _ever_ admit that to Potter).

Potter and the Weasley had just took off to venture on their own for a while, probably to find some food, leaving him and Granger behind to keep an eye out, which didn't make him any less uncomfortable. Well, at least he didn't get stuck with Weasley.

Although, now he could find a way to retrieve his wand they confiscated from him the minute he decided to stick with them (which he was slowly regretting). It wasn't that he was planning anything; he just didn't feel safe at all without his wand. What wizard would? He had no means to defend himself, and if it came down to the priority of their lives, he'd be fourth, a.k.a, last place.

A thought suddenly occurred to him – they wouldn't have taken his wand with them while they took off, would they? What if death eaters attacked? His demise would be on their conscience!

The young Malfoy searched his and Potter's tent up and down with no luck. Great, now he has to search Granger's. The last thing he needed right now was a verbal war. There was enough war going around in the wizarding world already.

He took a deep breath and flipped open the tent that led to a spacious vicinity, like all magical tents. He spotted Granger sitting on the stairs beside her bed with her knees to her chest, listening for news of the muggle world. Draco assumed she was probably anxious to hear her parents' names any second.

She didn't say anything to him. She didn't even look at him. Granted, he hadn't planned on breaking the ice, nor did he want to, don't get him wrong, but it was just common courtesy to acknowledge the guy; what was he? A bug they could flick off of their food? He wasn't used to being ignored; growing up an only child left him spoiled with attention.

"_In other news_," the radio broadcasted, "_lives were taken when another mysterious attack…_"

Why was she doing this to herself anyway? She was going to end up ill from all this worry.

He sighed. Momentarily forgetting his search, he did something that even surprised him. He walked up to the radio next to Hermione and turned to a station that Potter usually tuned in to. The tense ambience was reduced by the sound of the familiar ballads that soothed his dreams. However, Granger didn't seem to appreciate his efforts.

"What do you think you're doing?" he heard her protest.

"At this point you've more of a chance of worrying yourself to death than starving."

"I need to keep myself updated," she said, tuning back to muggle news.

He sighed irately and seethed, "Suit yourself." Don't say he didn't do anything nice for anybody.

He continued his search throughout the tent. She didn't even bother to look suspiciously at him; instead, continuously sat there, her breath wavering for every piece of news of horrendous attacks.

He rubbed his eyes. He didn't know how she could stand listening to this tragedy every morning. It was like the listening to the screams of his aunt's victims every morning in the Manor; they would wake him startled. And the whole point of this was to escape from that.

Draco paced towards the radio and decided to shut it off instead. At the sounds of further protests he stuck his hand out as means of offering to, dare he say it, dance. As a little kid, when his mother had frets in her life, even the smallest, his father would offer his hand to her and they'd slowly waltz to ease off their troubles. He'd sit on an armchair and watch them sway the night away; His mother rolling her eyes but chuckling with delight anyway, Draco clapping enthusiastically as means of encouraging his father to continue. It was the only time his father actually smiled –not smirked. It was a portrait of a perfectly normal family; a time in Draco's life when they were happy.

Granger stared at him as if he went mad; maybe he was going mad. He wasn't sure if this was even going to work. "Look, my offer stands for three more seconds," he said, begrudgingly.

She chuckled to match the 'are you serious?' look on her face. When she realised he was, she added, "There's no music."

"Surely all that book reading bolstered your ability to use your imagination, didn't it?"

She raised her brow, not sure how to respond to such a different side of her nemesis; or perhaps…ex-nemesis. She forgets they were on the same side now.

"Forget it-" he was about to pull away when she took the offered hand.

The next thing that followed was some of the most awkward, uncomfortable, slow waltzing between two people ever imaginable. They didn't say a word for several seconds.

Hermione Granger couldn't stop the amount of thinking rummaging through her mind. Neither of which involved the fact that she was actually slow-dancing with Draco Malfoy. She couldn't stop fretting about the bigger things happening. She couldn't stop what was about to spew like word vomit.

"How long do you think this war is going to last?" she broke the silence.

"Granger, the reason I offered to do this was to momentarily forget about what's happening. So if you don't mind-"

"I just don't know how much longer I could keep at this." She didn't give Malfoy a chance for any more responses. "I'm just so…" she swallowed, "so tired of fighting." She didn't know why she was telling him this; maybe because he wouldn't tell anyone else. Harry and Ron were the only other company she had and the last thing she wanted to do was worry them, but at the same time she could only hold on for so long. "Sometimes," her voice cracked, her vision blurring, "Sometimes, I think about getting up…and leaving…in the middle of the night."

The entire time, Draco didn't say a word; just left the weight of her hand on his while they slowly turned in circles.

Hermione couldn't help the next river of tears streaming down her pale face, leaving behind a trail in their wake. She whimpered slightly as she confessed, "One night, I almost did. I swear. Ron left us. And it was just me and Harry…he was sleeping…and I packed my bags, but then I looked at his sleeping face…I just couldn't…" she felt the material beneath her grip on his shoulder soak with her tears. She knew he wouldn't be happy about it. She knew he was going to yell. But she couldn't find herself to care in the slightest. "And the guilt," she choked. "I can't handle…I can't…"

"_It's a little bit funny..._"

Hermione sniffed and looked up at the sound of his voice. Was he-?

"_This feeling inside…"_

She couldn't believe her ears. He was singing.

"_I'm not one of those who can…easily hide_." He took a breath for the upcoming line, and continued to sing.

Hermione didn't say anything. She couldn't. Somehow the soft, almost whispering words calmed her down. It was probably his intention to shut her up, but he continued to sway her gently.

"_So excuse me forgetting…but these things I do…_"

Hermione cried silently. She didn't realise it at first.

"_See I've forgotten if..._"

It wasn't that he was bad singer, or even an amazing one at that, but the comforting gesture allowed her to close her eyes and rest her head on his shoulder.

"…_they're green or they're blue_."

And then she realised, he was letting her cry.

"_Anyway the thing is…what I really mean_…"

Her sobbing heightened slightly. She whimpered, whether from finally releasing all the anguish she's been holding or out of the warm gesture of his singing to sooth her, she wasn't sure.

"_Your's are the sweetest eyes…"_

Neither did she care.

"_I've ever seen_."

She really didn't.

"_And you can tell everybody…this is your song_."

Because, at this moment.

"_It may be quite simple but…_"

Right here.

"…_now that it's done_."

It was just the two of them.

"_I hope you don't mind…I hope you don't mind…_"

She lifted her head, his chin now against her face.

"_That I put down in words…_" he whispered deeply, and so softly she almost couldn't hear him.

"_How wonderful life is…_"

His forehead touched hers. She leaned closer to his face.

"_Now you're in…_"

He only just managed to breathe out the last part of the song.

"…_the world._"

They slowly closed the gap between their mouths.

.

.

.

* * *

So I was inspired to actually write this after I saw amazing cover photo of this story which was created by this talented individual:

** riddlelock . tumblr . com(SLASH)post/58656981584/slow-dancing-in-a-burni ng-room (remove spaces) **

Because the feels, man, the feels.

For those who didn't recognise the song, it's Elton John's "_Your Song_". (Granted I was listening to Ellie Goulding's version the entire time!)

**Other songs I considered using: **_Dream a Little Dream of Me _and _Make You Feel My Love_.

I hope you enjoyed it. Please don't forget to leave a review :)

Which reminds me, this story wasn't proof-read. Please excuse (but prefer you'd tell me about) the mistakes in the one-shot.

Mrs-N-Uzumaki xxx


End file.
